Burn The Ashes
by CallunaRussell
Summary: When the Wizarding World falls to Voldemort, laws of magic must be ignored. Two children of the Order of the Phoenix turn back time to change things where they all went wrong in Harry Potter's sixth year, while trying to make sure that they don't make things worse or poof themselves out of existence. Who knew matchmaking Gryffindors and Slytherins would be the hardest part?
1. Chapter 1

The ring gleamed despite the age of the piece, and Albus knew what he had found. He turned it in his fingers, memories swimming in his mind of things he had done, of someone he had lost. He had thought himself prepared, but the need for absolution took him by surprise with its strength. If he just put it on, for just a minute...perhaps she would forgive him. Perhaps she would tell him that it wasn't his spell that had ended her life. He could move on and truly find peace before his death if he saw her just once more. He moved to put the ring on his finger when suddenly a stinging hex struck his fingers and he dropped it instead.

"Not this time, sir." A male voice said, and Albus looked up to see a young man standing by his bookshelf. He didn't recognise him and he definitely hadn't entered through the door to his office, since the school was empty of almost everyone. "Who are you?" He asked, deceptively calm. "How did you get here?"

"The last plan." The young man said, running his hand through hair that was assuredly blonde when it wasn't streaked with dirt and what was probably blood. "Time to burn the ashes, sir."

Albus paled at this pronouncement. "Is it as bad as all that?"

"Worse." The young man said. With a flick of his wand he floated the ring in front of him, grasping it carefully between leather-gloved fingers. "I won't let you put it on again and start the fall again."

The young man reached out and grasped the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor. The young man took a deep breath and swung the sword before Albus could decide whether or not to allow this to happen. He knew the last protocol and what must have happened for this to occur. The blade hit the stone and an unearthly wail emanated from it. Black smoke filled the room and coalesced into the form of Harry Potter, older but undeniably him. "I am _ashamed_ of you! Time is _not_ something to be meddled with, Perseus!"

"Then you shouldn't have died, Old Man!" Perseus shot back. "Your sacrifice was pointless! You were tired of fighting, of being the Chosen One, and you went out pretending to be noble and left us behind and now there's no one left!" He took a breath and swung the sword again. The stone cracked, and the smoke shrieked and broke apart. "Two down, five to go." He joked, sword limp in his hand. "Just like old times."

"Seven." Dumbledore whispered. "I had thought…"

"Seven." Perseus agreed, putting up the sword. ""There is no spell for you to right her death." He said quietly. "There are sacrifices, and you've made them. Accept that and move on. There are no answers, and if you push for them, you will cost us this war...again, and we can't let that happen."

"We?" Albus repeated. "There's another?"

"She's taking care of another mission." Perseus replied. "I'll be taking on Defence."

"You can't just…!" Albus protested. "Severus…"

"Will not be one of those sacrifices this time." Perseus said coldly. "You bollocksed this up once already. It's time to _burn the ashes_."

* * *

Everyone looked up as the magic around Malfoy Manor shifted, and it was strange enough that even the Dark Lord paused in the moment he was about to deliver to the Malfoy boy his assignment. The space in front of the boy seemed to shimmer, and a young woman appeared, kneeling in front of the pale, shaking, blonde boy. "My Lord." She said, swallowing. "You have sent me here to this time in order to stop a rebel from my time in his attempt at destroying your empire." She held out a parchment to the Dark Lord. "Bound and sealed by your own magic, My Lord."

The snakelike man frowned. "Severus, check it for hexes."

The sallow man did as ordered, waving his wand in an intricate pattern. He reported the results with a frown. "Only a curse, should it be opened by anyone but you, My Lord."

"Lucius, open it." Voldemort demanded.

Lucius Malfoy swallowed but took the scroll from Severus and cracked open the seal, falling to the ground with a choking noise before letting out a scream.

"Severus." Voldemort said with a wave.

Snape waved his wand over the parchment checking it again, before nodding and handing it to Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord read the missive with a twist to his face that might have been called a smile on someone else. "My, my. You do bring us glad tidings. This letter does back up your words, Miss…"

"Malfoy. Eltanin Séverine Malfoy, My Lord." The witch replied, bowing her head lower.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed further. "That's how you were able to enter our protections?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"You know why you are here?" Voldemort pressed.

"Yes, My Lord." Eltanin replied.

"Should you fail," the Dark Lord hissed. "I shall kill young Draco before he has a chance to sire you."

"I understand, My Lord." Eltanin agreed.

"Lucius, see your granddaughter to her rooms." The Dark Lord ordered, with a dismissive wave. "You're no longer needed here." Lucius bowed, and moved toward the witch as she stood.

The pair had made it nearly to the door of the hall, when Voldemort stopped them. "One more thing." He said, as if he had just remembered something he had forgotten. He waved his hand, and Eltanin let out a hiss, her hand reflexively flying toward her collarbone.

"Fascinating." The Dark Lord said, tilting his head. "Well? What are you waiting for, Lucius?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Ah, hello Harry." Albus Dumbledore said, ignoring the purpling Vernon Dursley with whom he had been talking...or at least talking at. "Are you all packed?"

Harry blinked at the Headmaster who still looked every inch a wizard, and the strange blond man at his side. "Erm…"

Doubtful that I would turn up?" Dumbledore suggested shrewdly.

"I'll just go and — er — finish off," said Harry hastily, hurrying to pick up his fallen telescope and trainers.

By the time he had returned, Dumbledore was sitting in the living room holding a glass of something amber-coloured and matching glasses of the liquid were nudging the Dursleys alongside their heads.

"Very good, Harry. I want you to meet your Defence teacher for this year, Perseus Galloglass."

"Hullo, Professor." Harry said, thinking something about the man looked very familiar.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Perseus said warmly, his golden hair glinting like whatever Dumbledore was drinking.

"He's going to Apparate you to Number Twelve and set up some new protections and enchantments on the house, since we're not sure how much information others might have about the house."

Harry blinked along with his owl. "What about you, sir?"

"I need to have a chat with the Dursleys." Dumbledore said, in his usual mild manner, but his eyes were harder than Harry remembered seeing them.

Harry swallowed, but nodded. "Of course, Professor."

"Ah, but there's no reason you should be so encumbered. I will send your things ahead to Number Twelve." Dumbledore waved his wand and the trunk, cage, and Hedwig vanished. "There. Off you pop, Harry."

Harry was not at all sure he was ready to return to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, not since Sirius was gone. It seemed somehow wrong to want to return to the place that had driven Sirius to a strained combination of frustration and desperation. The guilt still sat heavy in his stomach, and he blinked as the new professor held out his arm. "Hold tight, Mr. Potter."

Harry swallowed hard and despite his worries about Number Twelve, his behaviour the last time he had seen Dumbledore, and his abysmal record with Defence teachers, he took hold of the wizard's proffered forearm.

The next thing he knew, everything went black; he was being pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull and then —

He gulped great lungfulls of cold night air and opened his streaming eyes. He felt as though he had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. It was a few seconds before he realized that Privet Drive had vanished. He and the new professor were now standing in front of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. His comprehension catching up with his senses, Harry realized that he had just Apparated for the first time in his life.

"Everything alright?" Professor Galloglass asked, but smiling as if he knew the answer.

"Yeah, but I think I prefer brooms." Harry admitted.

The professor snorted. "We'll work on it while I'm giving you private lessons this year."

"Private lessons?" Harry repeated, sharp and disturbing memories of his Occlumency lessons with Snape coming to the forefront. "What for?" He questioned weakly.

"Advanced Defence." Galloglass replied. "I hear you want to be an Auror...and I think we both know with the trouble you get in, a few more spells wouldn't hurt."

"So no more lessons with Snape?" Harry asked, hopefully.

Galloglass shook his head. "No. If it's decided you need a bit more Occlumency training, I'll bring my wife in."

"You're married?" Harry asked, curiously. He hadn't known any of his teachers to be married.

"Last time I checked." Galloglass joked. "She's probably up to no good right now."

* * *

Eltanin had given Draco space for a few days, before she threw up her hands and went into his private library. "Are you done brooding yet?" She asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Draco scowled at her, pale nose scrunched up. "What do you want?" He snarled.

Eltanin sighed. "I wanted to see if you're ready to talk to me, but I see you're still angry - though Salazar knows why."

"This was supposed to be my task." Draco shouted. "My chance to redeem my father from Potter's mess at the Ministry!"

Eltanin groaned, and refused to get pulled into a shouting match. Instead, she spoke in a normal, conversational tone. "So you would rather have the Mark and be punished for Grandfather's mistake by being tasked to kill Dumbledore before the end of the year?"

Draco stopped, hand on a particularly old looking tome. Despite all his years of etiquette training, his mouth fell open. "What?"

"That was to be your task to make up for Grandfather's failure. The task I'm now set to do." Eltanin said lightly. "And we both know you no longer believe certain things to be true." She swallowed. "You would take on this task for Grandfather's mistake. Let me take it on for you. I've already _been_ marked. Let me save you from the stain. This way you can have who you really want."

"How…?" Draco sputtered.

Eltanin rolled her eyes. "My mother speaks fluent French, but so do I."

"What?" Draco repeated.

Eltanin smiled, and wandered over to a bookcase, plucking a book out, and setting it on the desk in front of him. "There are always ways to get what you want."

Draco stared at the book, an old French volume on blood magic from a collection, specifically relating to blood status, penned by the grandmother of none other than notorious blood purist Brutus Malfoy. "Page two hundred and ninety is interesting." The strange girl remarked. "Unless you want to marry a vapid idiot."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was a man who liked contingency plans. He liked to think he was prepared for anything. That was why he had the Ashes plan in the first place. It was the final option, when everything else had failed. He had never thought it would come to fruition, but apparently it had. He had made some mistake somewhere, and the Wizarding World had not only fallen, but so had the Order.

Terrible things happened to those who meddled with time, but this time it was for the greater good. The soldier that had come back was only slightly older than a seventh year, but even Albus could tell he was a soldier. Now, seated in Grimmauld Place, the time-traveller kept himself in a position where he could watch the doors and window, not to mention the wary way his hand sometimes flicked, as if preparing to draw.

"So, you're from the future?" Tonks asked, friendly enough. "And you came back all alone? Isn't that dangerous?"

"I didn't come back alone." Perseus corrected her. "My wife's with me, but she's a spy. She had to come in from that angle, otherwise the Dark Lord would be in for a surprise if he summoned everyone."

"Why bring a spy?" Moody grunted. "Never can trust 'em properly. They have to live in two worlds too much. Too many debts to both sides. Why not someone else?"

Perseus snorted. "Because there was no-one else _left_. We heard there may have been a few Order members left in Azkaban, but they were just rumours. I don't think they would have been kept alive."

A silence fell over the table, everyone now suddenly much more serious. "Everyone?" Kingsley repeated.

"We're here to fix it." Perseus reassured him. "Things went off the rails this year, and that won't happen this time." He set his jaw firmly. "We'll kill You-Know-Who ourselves if we have to."

"Don't ask me where your mother's Slytherin good sense went, Potter." a voice said, and everyone turned as with a shimmer, someone released a disillusion from themselves. There, Eltanin Malfoy stood, hands on her hips. Everyone had wands in hand instantly, except the newcomer.

"I'd ask where your mother's Gryffindor courage went, but you did just fling yourself back into the past." Perseus answered. "Everything go alright?"

"About as anticipated. The Dark Lord threatened to kill my father before I was born should I fail in apprehending and stopping you, or in Papa's task, and said father has stopped being a purist but is still a sulking little brat. Without the task on him, he'll be much easier to flip sooner." She flopped herself in a seat beside him. "The Dark Lord won't be expecting to see me much, though." She frowned. "Your side?"

"D.A.D.A teacher and private lessons with Dad." Perseus confirmed. "Ring destroyed without enacting the curse."

"This is your wife?" Severus Snape said, from the corner, eyes narrowed.

"Yep." Perseus replied.

Eltanin reared back and stared at Perseus. " _Excuse me?_ What do you mean _wife_? I'm fairly certain _I_ don't remember you petitioning the Dark Lord for my hand in marriage. Pretty sure we'd both be _dead_ if you had."

Perseus rolled his eyes and gave everyone a self-confident smirk. "Well as good as, anyway, with the Dark Lord monitoring and approving all marriages in magical Britain."

Eltanin snorted. "Get more romantic, arsehole. Half your job is going to be making sure teenagers get together properly."

Perseus snorted right back. "Please, your parents get together after snogging in a closet."

"Yeah, but Papa was in love with her since she punched him in the face." Eltanin argued.

"Yes, because bodily harm is _such_ a healthy way to start a relationship." Perseus replied, sassily.

"Don't be cross just because I can still hex you under the table." Eltanin shot back.

"Oh, they're _so_ married." Tonks said, with a witch's cackle.


End file.
